Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

You may have noticed that my favourite word - in English or in Spanish - is tomorrow. In the land of my birth, a 'mañana' isn't a literal 'tomorrow', but rather a word for things that will never come, and jobs that will remain undone forever. It is a word for the eternally unattainable - a cupboard reserved for when we get to heaven.

Of course it is silly for me to talk about this with all the gravitas of a college essay - the best thing about mañana is that it's always presented in good humour, with a shrug, a joke, a dose weathered optimism, and even a drink if you're lucky.

So if mañana is the dreams, and tomorrow is the real stuff, then surely the meeting point for these two verbal conceptions of the future is children. Tiring as they are today, the hard work will surely pay off tomorrow, and failing that mañana. 

Below is one of my favourite pictures. It was taken when, just after my eldest daughter was born, my mum journeyed across the world to hold tomorrow in her arms.

 'You know bald alien vole, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'

This fading-light ramble, which will never come to fruition, was inspired by a Gallery prompt from Tara of Sticky Fingers (thanks - my favourite yet).

In related news, yesterday I read a lovely post along these very lines from Bibsey Mama - a vision out over the beautiful, sunny, parental fields of Spanish tomorrow. It put a huge smile on my face, and it is my Post of the Week (thank you Ella of Notes From Home).

In other news, some kind soul has given me a pleasant surprise in the form of a MAD Blog Awards nomination. Although I am frequently referred to as being actually mad, such a nomination is most unheard of around these parts - thank you.

And in other, other news, an influx of complaints from concerned viewers has led the Editorial Standards Quality Control Team here at Chaos HQ to acknowledge the recent trend toward sentimental mushiness, and insist that I resume poo jokes effective immediately.